The Darkwood Wand

Night Nine-Advice

A silver box flew off the mantle and sailed across the room. It hit Tennant's bureau and fell to the floor, breaking the hinge and leaving a scorch mark on the carpet. Draco raised the harlequin as the grandfather clock began to toll.

"I've spent a long year watching Death Eaters piss all over my home," Draco said, "and I am not tolerating it from you."

Tennant looked unimpressed.

"You hear me?" Draco hissed, stabbing the wand for emphasis. "This is my school, my room, my House, my w ..."

"Your what?" Tennant asked innocently.

"I warn you, Rowle. Learn to control yourself or I will end you."

Tennant sneered. "You don't have the bollocks."

Draco raised his wand to Crucio the bastard, regardless of consequences, but to both wizards' surprise, the harlequin sailed out of his hand and into a crack in his bed curtains. Draco clenched his fists. Granger.

Tennant burst into laughter, nearly falling off the sofa.

"Fuck," he moaned, wiping tears from his eyes. "You are such a useless shit, Drakey. Can't even control that toy wand of yours. Oh, your face!"

Draco couldn't speak. He was shaking with rage, whether at Tennant or Granger, he couldn't say. All he could do was stand there and endure his roommate's drunken hilarity and try not to look at the bed or accidentally blow up the room.

"Oh, I will end you, you big, bad wizard," Tennant mimicked in a high falsetto. "You think you come into my little school and bother my little crush ..." He rose unsteadily to his feet. "Thank you, friend, that was just what I needed."

Tennant unwrapped his bandage, revealing a nasty gash smeared with congealed blood. "Well!" he said brightly. "Since I won't be getting the polishing I so richly deserve—don't bother offering, Drakey—I suppose a bath will do."

The wizard tugged off his shirt, revealing a torso pitted and slashed with scars, and tossed it to the floor. Then he tottered into the bathroom. The instant the door slammed behind Tennant, Draco dove into his bed without even taking off his shoes.

He crashed into Granger, pinning her to the mattress as he had the first night she arrived, his grip tight on her wrists. She held his wand in one small hand and a candle floated behind her, casting her face in shadow.

"How dare you Summon my wand!" he hissed at her.

"Your probation forbids—"

"Fuck my probation!" he shouted. "You humiliated me!"

Granger shrugged as best she could. "It's only Tennant."

"You little fool," he hissed, distantly aware he sounded like Father again. "If Tennant thinks I'm weak, he'll spare no effort to bring me to heel."

"Fine," she said. "He'll probably try to recruit you, promising me as the prize. That could be useful."

Draco glared. "That's your new role? Slytherin bait? Did you enjoy teasing him with polishing?"

Granger huffed. "Don't be ridiculous. I wasn't talking to Tennant when I said that."

Draco stared down at her. Then who ...?

"Some of the school's staircases are very poorly maintained," Granger went on. "I plan to take it up with McGonagall."

Bewildered, Draco released her wrists and raised himself on his knees, his head nearly brushing the canopy overhead. Tennant must have misheard her. He shook his head, abandoning the topic.